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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25114768">Two Billion</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfAllCorgis/pseuds/QueenOfAllCorgis'>QueenOfAllCorgis</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Fly Away, Fly Away, Far Away [11]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angel!Roger, Live Aid, M/M, Past discrimination, lots of feelings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 08:14:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,582</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25114768</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfAllCorgis/pseuds/QueenOfAllCorgis</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Angel!Verse</p><p>There was going to be two billion people watching them. That was a lot of pressure.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Brian May/Roger Taylor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Fly Away, Fly Away, Far Away [11]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1474874</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>73</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Two Billion</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>A lot of people have been requesting a Live Aid segment so here you go! I am always up for more prompts so send away!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Two billion people,” John let out a stream of smoke, leaning back against the wall. “That’s a fucking lot of people.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If they looked ridiculous, two members of one of the biggest bands in the world sitting on amps and smoking as the world bustled around them, no one said anything. How could they with how busy they were? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think I’ve seen two billion of anything,” Roger shook his head, flicking ash onto the ground. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>John huffed out a laugh and shook his head. It really was unbelievable, that they would be part of the world’s largest live music event. It was a pressure that Roger hadn’t felt since that first performance, nervous and dressed too skimpy with Tim’s hand around his wrist. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This was certainly an improvement. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you boys hiding out?” A high, musical voice came from their side and they both quickly stubbed out their cigarettes. Miami would murder them if he knew they were smoking before a show. But, it wasn’t someone from their team, it was Elton grinning a gap toothed grin. “Come now dears, I wouldn’t tattle.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Waste of a ciggy,” Roger whined, getting a laugh in return. “You go on after us then?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“First David, then the Who, then me,” Elton shrugged, his brightly patterned jacket sparkling in the dim fluorescent lights. “But no one will even notice us after you boys go on.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>John tsked but his eyes still held that starry look they all got when superstars talked to them, no matter how big they got. It didn’t matter that Elton was a kind, funny person with whom they had spent countless nights partying with, he was still The Elton John and that was enough to make anyone’s head a bit fuzzy. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And David’s going to present the video that kid made,” Elton was still smiling, looking far more relaxed than someone should before performing for billions of people. “It’s going great, there really isn’t any reason to worry.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There wasn’t?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After angels were freed there was a massive influx of uneducated, traumatized angels who had never lived on their own. Businesses weren’t hiring them, landlords wouldn’t rent to them, and shelters wouldn’t let them in. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bob came to them with the idea of hosting a benefit concert for angel relief organizations. They would be able to provide education, job training, housing, and psychological help for angels to help them get back on their feet. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then they found out that it wasn’t just going to be them. Roger had thought that there might be a few smaller bands signing on, even with angels freed there was still a stigma against them. Hell, some of the actors and musicians of the world rebelled against the new law. Angels had been their trinket for so long that it was hard to give that up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But that wasn’t what happened at all.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Music icons signed on to perform, both in the USA and in England. Roger still felt like it was a bit of a practical joke as he read through the line up. There wasn’t a chance that this many people would want to help people like him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elvis Costello, Billy Ocean, Black Sabbath, Sting, Phil Collins, Rick Springfield, REO Speedwagon, Crosby-Stills and Nash, Judas Priest, Bryan Adams, U2, The Beach Boys, Simple Minds, The Who, and the list just went on and on. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This many people wanting to show their support for his kind was unthinkable. It still made him feel a bit choked up, a thick ball in the base of his throat. It also made him worry, what if all this fuss was made and no one came. What if no one contributed?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But they did.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And maybe that was scarier.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Your wings look particularly gorgeous today,” Elton sat on the amp with them, legs swinging under him. A faint smile quirked at Roger’s lips. He did always appreciate how Elton didn’t ignore the fact that he was an angel, he celebrated it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thanks, I grew them myself,” Roger spread them out a bit and got a bright laugh in return. John smiled next to him, nudging his leg with his foot. “How’s the crowd?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Big and beautiful,” Elton said, reaching up to adjust his hat. “All very excited to see you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No,” Roger scrunched his nose up and shook his head. “They’re here for the show, the money donated is a happy byproduct.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elton turned to look at him, eyes seemingly magnified behind his glasses. “Are you stupid? You’ll....you’ll see when you get out there. You mean more to people than you think Roger.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mr. John!” A flurry of green feathers suddenly appeared in front of them. The angel held a clipboard close to his chest and looked incredibly anxious. “Please stop wandering off! The director needs you to go over you set again, right now.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elton let out a long groan but got to his feet. “Duty calls. Are all angels so bossy or just my assistant?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“All angels,” John piped up. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I figured,” he shook his head. “Roger, I would suggest looking around if you are feeling like you don’t make a difference. Look here and look out there.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With a short nod he followed the angel down the hall. Roger watched him go, chest feeling a bit tight. Maybe he was right. There were angels working around him, angels playing instruments, angels holding cameras. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But...it wasn’t because of him was it?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was just an angel who got lucky. He was put in a position where his voice had some power. He wasn’t anyone special. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Come on, let’s go back to the trailer,” John pushed himself to his feet and offered a hand to Roger. The two of them walked back to the trailer and climbed inside, getting a sharp look from Brian. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hell of a long walk,” he groused and Roger rolled his eyes, pouring himself a cup of tea.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Met up with some friends,” he spread his wings out so he could more comfortably sit. Freddie was clearly full of energy, leg bouncing as he stared off into nothing. They sat in companionable silence, taking a moment to relax before the storm.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It still came. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was a crisp knock and an announcement of “on stage in five minutes!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was muscle memory at this point. Roger grabbed his drumsticks and got to his feet. They followed the assistant to the ramp at the edge of the stage, nodding to U2 who were relaxing after their set. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Brian and John were handed their guitars and slung them over their shoulders, shifting until they sat just right. Freddie bounced up and down and let out short breaths. Roger rolled his shoulders and spread out his wings, fingers twirling his drumsticks nervously. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dire Straights were finishing up and the roar of the crowd sounded overwhelming even from backstage. Roger felt the bundle of nerves twisting and writhing in his stomach and glanced around, incredibly aware of the bustling people around him. He focused on John’s fluffy hair, on the armband around Freddie’s bicep, on the blue...</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’s that?” He blurted, surprising Brian out of his own pre-show ritual. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This,” Roger reached over to run his fingers along the blue feather that had been carefully attached to his guitar strap. A faint blush colored Brian’s cheeks. “It’s a flight feather.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Remember when I got sick? When I thought I was going to lose my arm?” Brian’s voice went soft. “You gave me this feather and told me to keep it close, said it would heal me. Well, it worked then. I thought it could give me strength now too.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Roger felt a little out of breath at that, the nerves vanishing. All these years and Brian still held on to that feather? Not only that but he had made it into something amazing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re soft Brian May,” he took hold of the strap and pulled until Brian was near enough to kiss. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Maybe for you,” Brian grinned. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Presenting! Her Majesty, Queen!” The announcement was made with a thunderous roar of applause. Freddie darted forward, closely followed by the rest of the band. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If the crowd had been loud backstage, they were deafening onstage. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was almost like a wall of sound, a physical presence that nearly knocked Roger off his feet. Mechanically, he jogged forward and waved at the crowd before stopping in his tracks. There were more people than he had ever seen, more angels than he had ever seen. A true sea of colors from their wings stretched out in front of him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Rog,” Brian nudged him, a soft smile in place. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Right.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The show.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He hurried to his drum set, testing out the sound and taking a deep breath. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This wasn’t him playing with a band in a smokey pub, having been lended to them by his master. This was him playing in the biggest band in the world, performing in front of more people than had ever been played in front of before.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Think of all the past masters watching him, seething that he had accomplished more than they had.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Think of all the angels watching him, dreaming that they could have a future they didn’t even imagine.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t pressure anymore, it was a promise. He was here to give them a damn good show. He was here to show them that it was possible. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With a nod at Freddie, Roger straightened his shoulders and got ready to play. </span>
</p>
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